every fat raindrop that hits me hurts. I’ve declined Ringo’s offer of an umbrella. Let the rain drown me. Let it pelt me until I’m bruised.
I stare as two men lower Danny’s coffin into the gaping hole in the ground. I swallow when I lose sight of it. I close my eyes when the lump in my throat swells and lodges itself there, my measured breaths faltering. I try to breathe through my nose. I gasp for air, throwing my hand out to catch Brad’s black-suited arm to steady myself. He moves quickly to catch me.
“Hey,” he whispers, pulling me close. I bury my face in his side, unable to watch as Esther steps forward and tosses dirt on top of the coffin. Her face has remained expressionless for the two weeks since Danny was confirmed dead, though the devastation in her eyes is tangible. “Rose,” Brad says, urging me from my hiding place. I look at two sweaters in my hands, the British flags facing me. My ring catches my eye. The diamond has dulled. It hasn’t sparkled like it once did.
Gathering strength, I step forward slowly, stopping at the edge of the grave. Tears steadily drop and sink into the material of the sweaters. One more time, I bring them to my nose and breathe them in, closing my eyes. I see him. He’s there, wild and beautiful. “I’ll never forget you,” I whisper, dropping the sweaters into the grave.
I turn and walk away on unfeeling legs, but where I’ll go beyond here is unknown. I’m wet through, cold to the bone. Distraught. Taking the handle of the Merc, I pull the door open. “Rose?”
I frown at the voice I recognize, turning to find Perry Adams behind me. “Perry?”
Stepping forward, his face drenched in sympathy that I just don’t understand, he hands me an envelope. “Danny asked me to do something for him.”
Tentatively, I accept the envelope, my frown growing. “What?”
“Just read what’s inside.” He turns and walks away but comes to a stop before he makes it to his car. Looking over his shoulder, he smiles a little. “He really loved you.”
Those words don’t comfort me. They only remind me that he’s gone. I would rather Danny truly hate me and be here. Alive. Living. A suppressed sob chokes me, and I shake my head. “Good luck in the campaign race,” I say, getting in the car before the envelope is completely sodden by the rain.
I rip open the top and pull out some papers, my hand coming to my mouth when I see a handwritten note from Danny on top.
* * *
Rose,
If you’re reading this, my plan for us didn’t work out. But it still can for you. I asked you to be strong. Now, I’m begging you. I can’t be with you, and that kills me all over again. I’ve enclosed a one-way ticket to St. Lucia. Go. Get out of that godforsaken city. There’s a beachside villa all paid for. It’s yours. Sell it if you must, take the money, but promise me you’ll stay there for a while and remind yourself of who you are. My warrior. The woman I fell so madly in love with. You’ve lost me. I can’t let you lose her too. Don’t mourn me for too long. You’ve got a life to live. A life of freedom.
But before you leave, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. With the airline ticket is something else.
I love you.
Always will.
Danny x
* * *
I blink, swallow, blink again. I can smell him. See him. The airline ticket underneath is for a flight the day after tomorrow. I pull out the paper beneath that, my forehead creasing when I see what it is. A birth certificate. “What?” I scan the page, seeing it belongs to someone called Daniel Christopher Green. I shake my head, my confusion growing. This means nothing to me. Was that Danny’s name before Carlo Black found him? My gaze falls onto the date of birth. It can’t be. This person was born ten years a—
“Oh my God.” I nearly drop the papers when the date sinks into my confused brain. A date I will never forget. But his name? “Daniel,” I say to myself, feeling at my throat, massaging the swell of grief away. I urgently scramble through the rest of the papers, finding an address. My hand comes up to my mouth to contain my sob, my body convulsing. He found my son? In California. There’s a plane